Camden moved on to the next topic, which he called the most important in the galaxy. Namely, what costume to wear tomorrow.

I suggested one that wouldn’t feel too hot since the weather was gonna be nice, and August advised him to choose a mask that was easy to take off for meals and whatnot.

Camden tapped his chin in thought.

Seeing that August was finishing up by the grill, I walked over there to assist. And to touch his ass a little. It’d been…oh, probably half an hour since we’d touched.

“I didn’t know this was a two-man job.” He smirked.

“Now you know.” I kissed his cheek before I stole the platter with all the sausage.

I’d expected him to sit with Camden, but instead, he moved his plate to my side of the table and took his seat right next to me.

The couple feel did fucked-up things to my chest. It was too soon for me to crave a new relationship, right?

It’d be much easier if August weren’t so damn…him.

It was an uncharacteristically shy Camden we brought to the festival the following day. Decked out in a Spider-Man costume, he stayed close to August and refused to let go of his hand as we crossed the big parking area.

I had a feeling the boy would relax soon. He’d see this for what it was, a fun way to secretly bring their lifestyle into the vanilla world. People around us would just see a kid who was weirdly tall for whatever age they’d guess he was.

As August had said, it was none of their damn business.

Or, as I had said, in a part of the country where they needed signs to make sure people put on shirts and shoes, a Spider-Man costume was nothing.

It’d earned me a giggle from Camden and a mock glare from August.

“What is it with you Southerners and your tailgate parties?” I asked, finishing my smoke. Two families had parked their big trucks next to each other, and the men were working a grill while their wives and kids set up a picnic. “Where I’m from, it’s called loitering.”

August let out a laugh. “Yankees don’t know what the good life is about, that’s clear.”

“I agree, the Yankees are terrible.” I side-eyed him and his damned Yankees tee.

He just shook his head in amusement and brought out his and Camden’s tickets.

After we passed through the gates, I pointed to where he could pick up their goodie bags. I’d left mine in my truck yesterday, and I’d already gone through all the edible products. Best beef jerky I’d ever had, which was why it was on my list of things to get today. I was bringing that shit home with me. Pop loved jerky. There’d been some snack bars and toffee too. And a shitload of coupons.

“All right, first rule of food festivals,” August said. “We sample together—when there’s small, medium, and large to choose from, we go with small.”